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The Fiddlehead
Atlantic Canada's International Literary Journal
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Robert Nye
In Hell
crouched in your shadow on the rock staircase
Cigarette Smoke
A hooping in the firs,
A Necessary Blindness
Poppies who could not slip their ghosly dew
The Eaves
The eaves are full. It is the eaves
The Looking Glass
We have no mirrors in this house because
Sixpence
My thumbs prick upon consequence.
A Time to Dance
Master, is it time to dance?
Wideawake Water
Washing sleep away in a bowl of warm rain,
Circe to Ulysses
Stand on the North Wind, atheist
The Fox
The hunt is hunting
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Current Issue:
No. 301